I built an extra 10 minutes into my schedule before work this morning to sit and listen to "The Babbling Brook." (Finding My Center, 8/24/14) Within seconds of plugging in my ear buds, I found myself taking such a deep breath that my chest almost heaved. The next breath was almost as deep but more gentle. My shoulders dropped. Then, I drifted peacefully for the rest of my 10 minutes.
What a great way to begin my day. I floated to the Metro and down the escalator. I normally would have jumped at the stacks of work on my desk, but today I took time to chat with a colleague who retired today. I was crazy busy, and I spent most of the day racing a deadline. At about 2 o'clock, I noticed that my breath was shallow again, and my shoulders had again crept up to my ears. I stopped. I reached for my iPhone and my ear buds and plugged in.
Once again it took less than 10 seconds to calm myself. What has taken me so long to figure this out? I almost laugh out loud. I really don't know why it took so long, but I am glad I found it did this soon. As I refocus my attention on being centered in who I am, I am glad I have this tool.
I have often said that the first step in transformation is awareness. This bit of awareness is truly empowering. One day at a time, but this really feels like a huge step to getting back on track.
Showing posts with label center. Show all posts
Showing posts with label center. Show all posts
Monday, August 25, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Finding My Center
As those of you who are regular readers know, I've been struggling to get back to my center--where I know I am love and where I know I am being who I am in my heart. I had lots of things I should be doing today, but when I awakened, I knew the most important of those was to find my way home.
Even as I was first becoming conscious, my heart was racing with panic. As all the things I have to do this week chased their ways into my psyche, every bit of me went into overdrive...and I was hardly awake. I recall thing it was like playing tennis against 20 people, each volleying something my way.
"I am love," I said to myself. Usually that brings me down, but not today.
I sat up cross-legged in bed and attempted to meditate. Even concentrating on my breathing was a challenge because it was shallow and fast. Pulling my attention to my diaphragm, I focused on slowing and deepening my breathing. I could not make it work. My fallback position for meditation is to visualize Paulina Spring in Central Oregon. (See "The Headwaters," 5/1/14) That will be the answer, I thought. My heart continued to race. My breathing erratically speeded. What was I to do?
What I would have given to be able to jump into sweats and race over to the Spring and be lulled into the peace amidst the chaotic spring waters. That is it, I thought. Jumping out of bed, I grabbed my iPhone and spun through my tunes. There it was: "Babbling Brook," by Joe Baker. I had downloaded it a couple years ago for just such a time. Popping in my ear buds, I straightened up in meditation posture again.
Slowly, the sounds of nature brought me home. It's almost as if God knew that we were going to need babbling brooks when the world was created. The gift of nature for times when we need to be still and can't quite find our way home. When I felt myself breathing calmly again, I opened my eyes. Just 20 minutes but yet a whole different experience of the world about me. Not a thought about all the things I have to do this week, and mostly they stayed at bay all day.
I did almost nothing I needed to do today, and it was perfect. I just listened to my center and did what I needed to do to "stay home." A walk on a late summer's day, followed by an ice coffee and frozen yogurt. A nap. Reading for my vacation. Time playing in the kitchen, creating healthy foods to support my intention to refocus on health this week.
I've written before about the term "sin," originally an archery term, which means that we aimed, missed, and need to adjust the aim. We express an intention, we head in that direction, and when we fall short, we adjust our aim back to the core intention. Whatever this reaiming process in which I now find myself ends up being, it must include finding my center every day. My babbling brook will help me start my day tomorrow, and it will be with me on my desk during the day. I will use the gift of nature to keep me home.
Even as I was first becoming conscious, my heart was racing with panic. As all the things I have to do this week chased their ways into my psyche, every bit of me went into overdrive...and I was hardly awake. I recall thing it was like playing tennis against 20 people, each volleying something my way.
"I am love," I said to myself. Usually that brings me down, but not today.
I sat up cross-legged in bed and attempted to meditate. Even concentrating on my breathing was a challenge because it was shallow and fast. Pulling my attention to my diaphragm, I focused on slowing and deepening my breathing. I could not make it work. My fallback position for meditation is to visualize Paulina Spring in Central Oregon. (See "The Headwaters," 5/1/14) That will be the answer, I thought. My heart continued to race. My breathing erratically speeded. What was I to do?
What I would have given to be able to jump into sweats and race over to the Spring and be lulled into the peace amidst the chaotic spring waters. That is it, I thought. Jumping out of bed, I grabbed my iPhone and spun through my tunes. There it was: "Babbling Brook," by Joe Baker. I had downloaded it a couple years ago for just such a time. Popping in my ear buds, I straightened up in meditation posture again.
Slowly, the sounds of nature brought me home. It's almost as if God knew that we were going to need babbling brooks when the world was created. The gift of nature for times when we need to be still and can't quite find our way home. When I felt myself breathing calmly again, I opened my eyes. Just 20 minutes but yet a whole different experience of the world about me. Not a thought about all the things I have to do this week, and mostly they stayed at bay all day.
I did almost nothing I needed to do today, and it was perfect. I just listened to my center and did what I needed to do to "stay home." A walk on a late summer's day, followed by an ice coffee and frozen yogurt. A nap. Reading for my vacation. Time playing in the kitchen, creating healthy foods to support my intention to refocus on health this week.
I've written before about the term "sin," originally an archery term, which means that we aimed, missed, and need to adjust the aim. We express an intention, we head in that direction, and when we fall short, we adjust our aim back to the core intention. Whatever this reaiming process in which I now find myself ends up being, it must include finding my center every day. My babbling brook will help me start my day tomorrow, and it will be with me on my desk during the day. I will use the gift of nature to keep me home.
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